Kamp for da Creature---pt 1 of 2--- "It's all about da Mama at first"

So, I prepared, printed a list of his belongings, made him responsible for gathering the things on the list, checking them off, and explained how to use his sleeping bag's outer bag as a laundry bag so he has some reasonable hope of getting his suitcase repacked, after he *cough* of course remembers to check all his belongings off on the identical version of the packing list he has in a neat ziploc bag with a crayon inside his suitcase...

None of that is going to stick, or work, because this is his first time at camp, and I'm cool with that.

You have to start somewhere.
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Because I have recently volunteered to help with the social media arm of TEAAM, I've been serving as an admin on their Facebook Group...

(Please...go join the group as a favor to me, PLEEEEZE....Pwetty PLEEEZE....blah blah blah....social media groveling---  

you can find the group HERE and when you do, you should definitely share it with all of your friends with the following text----"I have a friend who is desperately trying to get the word out about this fantastic, one-of-a-kind social experience for children and young adults on the Autism Spectrum, and apparently she's offering to ship home-baked cookies to anyone who joins" 

[I'll kill you later for that one, when I finally get my kitchen clean again from baking the thousands of cookies that all of your followers require of me when they join the group]) 

...I have learned from other mothers (take a breath, this sentence continues... bwahahahahaha) that sending your disabled child to camp is stressful.

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It's not stressful at all for me.  I dropped him off, cheerfully looked the staff in the eye, and said "Good luck with that" and walked gleefully to my car, which I drove straight to the movie theatre so I could see "Jurassic World" IN THE THEATRE!!!!! (ps---do not take small children to this movie, you'll thank me later, but it was great fun for this grown-up)

See...for the past 12 years, I've been chained to the care and support of a high-maintenance, high-stress child.  Oh, I tried child care, really, I did, but every time it was eventually (or immediately) disastrous, so I decided to suck it up and give up on trying to pay someone to take care of my child which was either the best or worst decision of my life, but it certainly ended my career and ability to be alone, like, you know, ever, really and it was hard. 

That decision had the added consequence of forcing my older, neuro-typical child to serve as emergency childcare when there were no other choices (like, when I had to be in the hospital and she had to miss classes at University, or when I had to have planned medical procedures, or when I was too sick to even take care of myself).  I suffered from tremendous guilt through the years at having to rely so heavily on her, but there was no one else.

My only other family is my father, and he lives in town, but he has a lot of people and animals to take care of himself, and, honestly, children have never been his "thing," so it has always been best not to stress him out with a child that lives to perturb the perturbable.  If you can face off with my son without getting your feathers ruffled, he feels safer, happier, and life will roll along as peacefully as possible.  Short of that---let's face it, you're SCREWED.

All of this to say that this morning I woke up when I wanted, cooked nothing (so far), and happily harvested basil from the garden which I will turn into solo pesto for lunch without apology or compromise.   It's like heaven.

For now.  Because I do know he is coming home.  If he were going to be gone for a long time, I'd be sad, but 43 hours does not count as a long time.  It's barely time for me to catch my breath.

This is why what TEAAM is trying to do matters so much to me.  One of the tenets of their mission is to provide respite for those of us who care for people who exist on the Spectrum.  Respite is rare, hard to acquire, and often fraught with risk.  To be able to assuredly send my son somewhere that he will HAVE A GOOD TIME WITHOUT ME is like gold.  

On a related note----My daughter is currently working diligently to devote her life to a vision---she is well on her way to being able to provide all-in-one daycare for disabled children.  They will get to play and live and learn alongside neuro-typical kids.  She will take her Physical Therapy doctorate, and her art skills, her camp training, her OT training, and her Kinesiotherapy license and add to it a business license, malpractice insurance, and hand-picked staff (including a Speech Therapist) and open a daycare like no other, at least no other available here.  A daycare where everyone leaves each day smarter and happier and where parents feel safe living however much non-spectrum-related life they are comfortable with each day.  Even the neuro-typicals will walk away each day having learned art, music, and empathy for those with disabilities.

If she succeeds in her quest to provide true daycare for spectrum kiddos and turn this feeling of freedom I have right now into a daily occurrence for other parents/caregivers?

That would be blessing beyond words.  I wish I could have not had to drive all over the town, all the time, to all the various necessary therapies.  I wish it had not had the effect of alerting my son to the fact he was different ALL the time.  I wish he had had a place where he could go, play, get his therapies in a quiet "it's just what we're doing today" environment where everyone "plays" the same way...these things would have made such a difference in my life as a parent.

Parenting him has been hard, and I live constantly with this feeling of being trapped by a love too great to give up or give in, but I promise you, it has been so hard.  When 43 hours of "freedom" feels like the best thing I've had in twelve years that is "just for me", you know this a difficult row to hoe.

So, have fun at Kamp Kaleidoscope, my darling baby boy.  I'm gonna party like it's 2003, and try to remember what I was like before my whole world became taking care of you.  Tomorrow will come, and I'll go back to making it all seem normal enough, and go back to making sure you are safe and moving forward, but just for today....

Toodles!